Chapter 56: CHAPTER 56

Tessa’s POV

My hand hovered in the air, inches from certain death.

The beast's jaws gaped wide before me, a cavern of gleaming teeth that could crush my bones to powder. I could see the muscles in its neck corded with tension, could see the way its entire body coiled like a serpent ready to strike.

And still, I didn't move.

I couldn't.

My body had betrayed me completely. My legs were useless, my arms trembling so violently I could barely hold them up. My breath came in short, ragged gasps that did nothing to fill my lungs—hyperventilation, I realized dimly, the kind that came before fainting, before death, before everything went black.

The beast snarled again, the sound vibrating through my very bones. Its eyes blazed down at me, twin infernos of crimson fury, and I felt the full weight of its attention bearing down on my soul.

This is it. This is how I die. Torn apart by the Mad King, in the mud, in the rain, surrounded by the bodies of the dead.

The thought was strangely clear, strangely calm, cutting through the chaos of my mind like a blade.

And then, unbidden, another thought surfaced.

Useless. That's what you are. Useless and weak and pathetic. You can't do anything right. You can't save anyone. You can't even save yourself.

My father's voice. Cold and contemptuous, dripping with the disdain he had shown me my entire life. The words he had whispered to me in the dark, the words he had shouted at me in public, the words that had become the soundtrack of my existence.

You killed your mother. You're a curse. A burden. A mistake that should have been corrected.

My sister's voice now. Cruel and mocking, the voice of someone who had always known she was better than me, stronger than me, more deserving of love and life than I could ever hope to be.

You're nothing, Tessa. You've always been nothing. You'll always be nothing. The world would be better off without you.

The voices of everyone who had ever told me I was worthless. Everyone who had ever looked at me with pity or contempt or indifference. Everyone who had ever made me feel small.

And then, through the chaos of those memories, a new voice emerged. Small at first, barely a whisper. But growing stronger with each heartbeat.

But you're still here.

I blinked, the rain streaming down my face, the beast still snarling before me.

You're still here, Tessa. You survived your father. You survived your sister. You survived being sold to a mad king. You survived his beast. You survived everything that should have killed you.

I thought of all the moments I should have died. The beatings I had endured as a child. The hunger I had suffered when my father had withheld food as punishment. The terror of that first night with Dmitri, when I had been certain I would never see another sunrise.

But I had survived. Against all odds and all logic, against everything that should have destroyed me—I had survived.

And now you're here. In front of a beast that could kill you without effort. And it hasn't attacked you yet.

I looked up at the massive creature before me. Its jaws were still open, its teeth still bared, its eyes still blazing with fury. But it hadn't attacked. It had stopped. It was waiting.

Why is it waiting?

The question surfaced like a bubble rising through dark water. Why hadn't it already torn me apart? Why had it stopped, lowered its head, scented me? Why was it standing there, snarling but not striking?

Because it knows you. Because somewhere in that beast, Dmitri recognizes you. Because you're the only one who can reach him.

The thought was absurd. Impossible. I was nobody. A servant. A peasant. A wolfless, worthless girl who had no power, no influence, no ability to do anything except cower and cry.

And yet.

And yet here I was. Still alive. Still breathing. Still standing in front of a monster that should have killed me a hundred times over.

If I die here, I die. If I die here, at least I won't have to suffer anymore. At least I won't have to face my father's contempt, my sister's cruelty, the endless parade of people who've made me feel like nothing.

The thought was bleak, but it was also strangely freeing.

But what if I don't die? What if I succeed? What if I can actually do this?

I thought of Kastiel's desperate plea. Of the guards' terrified faces. Of all the people who were counting on me, hoping I could save them from the monster their king had become.

If I die, I'm just another body in the mud. But if I live—if I can reach him—I could save everyone. I could save him. I could prove that I'm not just a scared little pathetic woman. I could prove that I can rise to the occasion. I could prove that I'm more than what they all said I was.

The thought took root in my chest and began to grow.

Slowly, trembling, I straightened my spine. The movement was agonizing, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. But I did it. I forced myself up, forced myself to stand, forced myself to meet those blazing red eyes without flinching.

The beast snarled again, but I didn't back down.

"I know you're in there," I said, and my voice was shaking, but it was clear. It was strong. It was mine. "I know you can hear me, Dmitri. I know you're still in there somewhere, buried under all that rage and grief."

The beast took a step forward, its massive form looming over me, its jaws still open, its teeth still bared. I could feel the heat of its breath on my face, could see the flecks of blood in its fur and smell the death that clung to it like a second skin.

But I didn't run. I didn't cower.

"I'm not going to pretend I'm not terrified," I continued, my voice growing stronger with each word. "I am. I'm absolutely terrified. I've never been so scared in my entire life. But I'm still here. I'm still standing. Because I believe in you."

I reached up again, my hand trembling, reaching toward that massive, blood-soaked muzzle.

"I believe in you, Dmitri. I believe in the man who held me in the carriage and promised to protect me. I believe in the man who forgave me when I lied to him. I believe in the man who made me feel like I was worth something, even when I didn't believe it myself."

The beast's eyes tracked my movement, its muscles coiling, ready to strike. But still, it didn't move.

"I accept both of you," I said, my voice cracking with emotion. "I accept the man and the beast. I accept the king and the monster. I accept everything that you are, Dmitri. The good and the bad. The light and the dark. I accept it all."

Tears were streaming down my face now, hot and fierce, cutting through the cold rain. My hand was still reaching, still trembling, still inches from death.

"But please," I begged, my voice breaking. "Please don't kill them. Please don't kill your own men. Please don't make me watch you destroy everything you've built. Please, Dmitri. Please. I'm begging you."

The beast stared at me, its jaws still open, its teeth still bared. I could see the conflict in its eyes—the war between the rage and something else, something that was trying to break through.

"I know you're still in there," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper now. "I know you can hear me. I know you don't want to do this. So please—please—let me help you. Let me bring you back. Let me—"

I stopped. My hand was inches from its muzzle. Inches from those massive teeth.

This is it. This is the moment. Everything I've ever been, everything I've ever done, everything I've ever survived—it's all led to this.

I closed my eyes.

"Whatever happens," I whispered, "I want you to know that I don't blame you. I never blamed you. Not for any of it. And I—I—"

I couldn't finish. The words wouldn't come.

But my hand kept moving.

I reached out, trembling, and I touched the beast's muzzle.

I felt the warmth of its fur, the roughness of its skin, the slow, steady beat of its heart beneath the blood and mud.

And then I heard it.

A sound. Soft at first, barely audible over the rain. A whimper. A sob. Something that sounded almost like—relief.

I opened my eyes.

The beast's massive jaw had closed. Its teeth were no longer bared. Its eyes were still red, still blazing—but there was something else there too. Something that looked almost like recognition.

And then, slowly, impossibly, the beast lowered its massive head.

It brought its forehead to my palm.